Darker Than Desire by Shiloh Walker Page A

up my own. In my head, my grandpa always looked like you. Big and strong, not afraid of anything—tough. That was how you looked to me. And my grandmother would look like Miss Mary. Sweet, with a voice pretty and soft.”
    He looked back at Max, but Max had his eyes closed.
    â€œI need to know who else is left,” David said softly. “Don’t tell me you don’t know. I know what you’ve been doing. I need their names.”
    A moment passed, then another. David counted the beats of his heart, it had grown so quiet.
    â€œThere is a journal,” Max finally said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “It was in Harlan’s study. I got it now. You want it, you’ll find it at my house.”
    â€œWhere is it?”
    A faint smile came and went on Max’s face. “Look around my house. I’ve got the journals there. I…” His gaze moved to the door, and his voice dropped. “Just you look. But there’s not much left. Most of them are either dead or in jail.”
    A band wrapped around David’s chest. “Most. Not all?”
    â€œDon’t start down this trail, David. There’s nothing down it but death for you if you take even the first step.”
    â€œI took the first step years ago. I can’t undo it.”
    â€œYou can. You’re not too far gone.” Max blew out a heavy sigh. “I was willing to take those steps, because I’d made a promise. It was a risky, fool thing to do, and if I’d messed up it would have hurt Miss Mary something awful. But every time I thought of what had been done…” He shook his head. “I had to do it. You don’t. The cops here, now, they care. The men I know about are gone. You can let it go. Take the journal to them. Let them do their job. Don’t go chasing death down. After all this time, boy, you deserve a life.… Don’t let them take anything else from you. Not even because you want vengeance.”
    David didn’t answer.
    A life. He wouldn’t know how to make one even if he wanted one. He didn’t understand the concept. Vengeance, though … that was something he understood.
    He went to slip outside and a quiet question made him pause.
    â€œWill you come back?”
    He gripped the door frame, stared straight ahead. He wanted to say no. Wanted to pretend he hadn’t heard. But it wasn’t possible. There weren’t many in this world he felt he owed much of anything to. But Max was definitely one of the few he did owe. “Yeah. I’ll be back.”
    *   *   *
    â€œCome on, you icy bitch. All I need is a grand. Five hundred would do it.”
    Sybil blocked out the anger, blocked out the insults and just said, “No.”
    Layla reached out. With the ease born of years of practice, Sybil sidestepped her younger sister’s hand—and those half-inch-long nails—and avoided being scratched or grabbed for what was probably the dozenth time in just the past ten minutes. “It’s not like you’re hurting for money,” Layla said, her tone snide. “Look at this place.”
    She picked up a Nikon that had cost Sybil over five thousand— not including the accessories. Pursing her lips, Layla held it up. “I bet you could put this on pawn and get a few hundred easy.”
    â€œPut my equipment down.”
    Hearing the threat in her sister’s voice, Layla looked up. “Shit, what crawled up your ass and died?”
    â€œI told you the last time I gave you money, it wouldn’t happen again.” Since Layla was still carelessly holding a very expensive camera, Sybil stepped forward and took it, returning it to its place. “And before you even start to consider it—all my equipment is registered to me. The pawnshop here would call me if you even tried. If one of my cameras goes missing, I’ll file a report. I’ll let Sorenson know you were here